Real Magic
by heysweet
Summary: The gang auditions for Real Magic, the Wizarding Broadcast System's answer to The Real World. But guess who else makes the cast? Chaos ensues! D/Herm fun for all! Fluff galore!
1. The Idea

  
  
**Real Magic  
  
A/N:** I know someone must've already thought of this. Well, here's my contribution.  
**  
Summary:** Title says it all. Ginny convinces her friends to audition for a popular wizarding based on The Real World. Of course, they get in but wild guess who they're sharing a house with! Chaos ensues! Hermione and Draco fun! Woohoo!  
  
**Chapter One: The Idea  
  
**_What happens when four wizards...  
...and three witches...  
...picked to live in a mansion...  
...stop acting nice...  
...and start acting REAL  
...Real Magic!  
...Paris!  
  
_Pass the canary creams?  
  
No, no. I don't think so. You'll transfigure and distract us.  
  
I _love_ this show.  
  
Fine, pass the Bott's.  
  
Here. Ssshh. It's starting.  
  
  
  
  
  
Eww! Toe jam! Blech!  
  
Ron, how on earth do you know what toe jam _tastes_ like?  
  
None of your bees wax!  
  
  
  
Bees wax? Is that in there too?  
  
Harry, zip it! Lenny''s in love with Marla and I _know_ he's going to tell her this time.  
  
Yes! I can feel it! I wish they'd kick out Max though. He's such a prat.  
  
This show has ruined you, Mione.  
  
Zip it!  
  
The four friends sat huddled on the couch of the Gryffindor common room. It was the very last week of their fifth year. On the floor sat a green marble ball (about the size of a quaffle) out of which projected a three dimensional representation of the Wizard Broadcast System 1 or WBS1. An astounded muggle would've called it a hologram. In front of them the fireplace and wall disappeared and the four Gryffindors felt as if they were really sitting in the living room of this season's Real Magic mansion in Paris, France except that the scale was half the size of real life. The opening credits of Real Magic floated in the air in front of them and the attractive faces of the Real Magic cast grinned happily.  
  
Uh oh, Ginny said gleefully, I smell a hot tub scene.  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
_ ... Seriously... I don't know what's up with Marla but Lenny is going to totally combust if he doesn't tell her already. I mean there she was with that French guy and she must know how he feels! I don't know but I'm totally staying out of it... After I tell Marla that Lenny's got the hots for her.  
  
_Merlin! Shauna's such a blabbermouth!  
  
Well, I think she _should_ tell him. He's never going to tell her himself.  
  
Typical of you, Pansy.  
  
I thought Lenny liked that Denise girl?  
  
Crabbe, that was three bloody _weeks_ ago!  
  
  
  
Can't we watch The Six Million Galleon Warlock?  
  
No! Shut up, Goyle!  
  
They'd better not kick out Max. He's the only interesting one on the show.  
  
No, he's not! He's a git!  
  
I hope he hexes them all.  
  
Draco, I _told_ you. They live in a _muggle_ house. They can't _use_ magic.  
  
Alright! This is only the second episode I've ever seen. I'm not obsessed like _some_ people.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
_Like Real Magic? Why not join the cast! Real Magic is now accepting audition marbles for it's third season in exciting Los Angeles! Spend a thrilling summer in Southern California! Meet new friends! Get famous!  
  
_Ohmigosh, I _have_ to audition! Ginny squealed. We could _all_ audition!  
  
Harry ogled her. Are you mad?  
  
Ginny insisted. It would be great! What if one of us got in! What about you, Hermione?  
  
Hermione's eyes widened. Why on earth would I-  
  
Ginny tried to think of a reason. Because... it would like great on your resume!  
  
Hermione gave her a look.  
  
said Ginny, er, wizards are very impressed when you can get along in the muggle world.  
  
Of course, I can get along in the muggle world, Hermione said, I'm muggle-born.  
  
And I really want you to! Ginny insisted.   
  
Hermione crossed her arms. Well, I'm not going to unless Harry does.  
  
Harry crossed his arms also. And I'm not going to unless Ron does.  
  
Ron shrugged. I'll do it. I don't care.  
  
Harry punched Ron in the shoulder. Git! You were supposed to help me!  
  
Ron laughed.   
  
said Ginny, clapping her hands. It's settled. We're _all_ sending in audition marbles!  
  
Harry and Hermione sat back, looking worried.  
  
Oh dear.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
..._Spend a thrilling summer in Southern California! Meet new friends! Get famous!...  
  
_Draco smirked. Think I'll send in an audition marble. I've got nothing better to do this summer. Except hang around the manor with father and his bastard friends.  
  
Mmm, good idea, Dracy. Maybe I'll audition too.  
  
Pansy, that was _not_ an invitation.  
  
Ha! Well, there's nothing you can do to stop me. I think the magical public is ready for Pansy Parkinson.  
  
Sure, like they're ready for the next incarnation of the dark lord.  
  
  
  
  
  
Maybe we'll try out too! Crabbe yelped, nudging Goyle in the gut.  
  
Goyle agreed.  
  
Draco guffawed. Shoot for the moon, mates. I'm _sure_ you'll get in.  
  
Draco ran a hand through his hair and grinned. With his pretty boy good looks he figured he was a shoe in. Real Magic liked attractive people. And then, he thought, he could finally get some attention for once. Or at least steal some away from that Harry Potter who_ always_ seemed to be in the spot light.  
  
This summer, Draco said evilly, is the summer of _Draco_.  
  
Summer of Draco my arse.  
  
Shut up, Pansy!  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
A/N Fluff is fun. Reviews always welcome. :0)


	2. The Auditions

  
  
**Real Magic  
  
A/N**: This is a great break from the heaviness of Sympathy for the Slytherin. Short chapters, I know, which usually drive me crazy but for this story they're warranted. Enjoy!  
  
**Real Magic**  
  
**Chapter 2: The Auditions  
  
**

Audition Requirements  
Real Magic  
Please include one ten minute length marble projection answering the following questions:  
Name, school if attending, and age.  
What do you want to be when you grow up?  
What's your family like?  
What are your hobbies?  
What was your most embarrassing moment?  
Describe your love life.  
Why do you want to be on Real Magic?  
Why would you make a good cast member on Real Magic?  
  


********************************************************************  
  
**Ginny.  
  
Is it recording? Ron, is it recording? Okay. No, don't watch, go away. Wait! Should I start? Yes. I mean, yes. Right... Hi! My name is Virginia Weasley and I'm a fifth year Gryffindor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! I... what? Was that awful? Now? Should I go now? We can edit this, right?  
  
********************************************************  
  
Pansy.  
  
I think I'd be a brilliant addition to the cast of Real Magic because of my sparkling personality and charming wit. Draco, stop laughing! Oh, sod off! Can we start again?  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Harry.  
  
Hi, my name is Harry Potter... But you probably already know that from looking at me... not that I assume everyone knows who I am. Except they do... but I don't _mean_ it that way. It's not my _fault_ I'm famous- Ron, start it over!  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Crabbe.  
  
Er... what should I say? You'll cue me? Whassat mean? Repeat after you. Right... Mah name's Crabbe. I'm a sixth year Slytherin at Hogwarts. I enjoy being a rotund, inbred with the what? Intellectual capability of a flobber worm. Hang on a minute, Draco, what's rotund mean?  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Ginny.  
  
... I enjoy watching Quidditch and my favorite subject in school is Charms. When I grow up I think I'd like to work for the Ministry. Not sure yet. I have _six _brothers, most of whom are quite irritating a lot of the time. They think I'm boy crazy. But I'm really only crazy about one boy... Wait, we're erasing that bit.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Draco.  
  
I suppose I should tell you the usuals like my most embarrassing moment, hobbies and all the rest of it. Alright, fine. Once I was turned into a ferret, that wasn't my brightest moment. But creaming Gryffindor in Quidditch last year made those small indignities worth it. My hobbies generally include making life unpleasant for Harry Potter, self-righteous prat that he is...  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Hermione.  
  
My favorite thing to do is study and my friends call me a bookworm but I think academic excellence is important. Maybe it's because I'm muggleborn. Because I work so hard I guess I don't have much time for things like boys. I dated a Bulgarian seeker, Viktor Krum for a while. _That_ was a disaster. He was cute in a Bulgarian dolt sort of way but we never had anything in common. There's been no one since Krum. Not that I don't _ like_ boys. It's not like _that._ I just want someone who understands me and I don't have time to... well, and then everyone says I should be with Ron or Harry already but I don't really... not that they're not great but... er... anyway, I like studying a lot.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Goyle.  
  
Talk when it lights up? It's lit up now. Talk now? When? Now? Right, I'm Goyle and I go to Hogwarts and- is it still on? It's blinking. Lemme see if I can... Oops-  
  
**************************************************************  
  
Ron.  
  
When I grow up I'd like to play Quidditch. Playing Quidditch for the Canons would be my fantasy. Then again after last year, I've thought about being an auror like Harry. Tough call. Quidditch or fighting evil... quidditch... fighting evil... quidditch...yeh, I dunno yet.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Pansy.  
  
Draco, leave. Yeh, leave the room, I don't want you to hear this part. Right... Well,   
I want to be on Real Magic because... it looks like fun is all. And also my... my ex-boyfriend is auditioning too. And... well, I'm still in love with him and I want him back.   
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Hermione.  
  
I want to be on Real Magic because... well, I don't want to really. I'm only auditioning because Ginny convinced me. But meeting new friends is always fun. As long as I'll have some time to get ready for seventh year. Ginny says there'll be boys but... I guess it would be nice to meet someone. Oh yeh, I'm supposed to give my most embarrassing moment. That would be when this great git, Draco Malfoy, gave me hexed my teeth a couple of years ago. Don't get me started.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
Draco.  
  
I want to be on Real Magic because I think the greater witch population could greatly benefit from staring at me every week. Looks like it might be a lark anyway. Could meet some girls. _A_ girl anyway. I've had it with these Slytherin airheads, they're all the same. Not that I don't want a hot looking girl but there's got to be _something_ going on upstairs. And don't get me started on my ex.  
  
******************************************************************   
  
Pansy.  
  
And I'll _get_ him back by bloody hell because no man has ever refused a Parkinson girl and I don't bloody care if he _is_ a Malfoy!  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Ron.  
  
I want to be on Real Magic because it looks like fun and I've never been to California. My friend, Dean, says the girls are beautiful which is a definite motivation. I've gone out with all the sixth year Gryffindor girls already and a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Haven't gone out with Hermione, of course. Whole other story. Mione says this would be good for me. She says I have an inferiority complex because my best friends are either famous or over achievers and I come from such a large family. I told her to sod off.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Harry.  
  
Since I'm only doing this because my friends tricked me into it, I guess I don't really want to be on Real Magic but I doubt I'll be picked. I'm not all charming and attractive like the people on the show. Ginny's like that. Pick her for sure. Then again, there's a chance you might pick me just because I'm Harry Pot- but not that I _like_ being... oh, stuff it.


	3. The Big Sell

  
  
**Real Magic  
  
A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! I love reviews! Reviews rock!**  
  
Chapter 3: The Big Sell  
  
**  
This was crunch time.  
  
Barry Slikanawi, assistant executive producer of Real Magic at WBS1, sat forward tapping his wand in an impatient staccato rhythm on the arm of a genuine Horntail hide desk chair. With the rapidity of charmed editing and the other advantages of a magical network, WBS shows ran three consecutive seasons in spring, summer and fall with one winter break. The only time it got hectic for the producers of Real Magic was when audition marbles started pouring in for the next season. Screening out undesirables, deciding who would make the perfect cast member and brewing up a tasty recipe for romance, conflict, and general melodrama was harder then most people thought. But having just viewed the audition marbles of a few particularly intriguing young witches and wizards, Barry had an idea. It was a grand idea. It would spring Real Magic right back up to number one in the ratings from it's lowly position at number twelve. All Barry had to do was convince the executive producer, Wayne Frickle. Barry mustered up his courage, picked the bag of marbles up off his desk, straightened his robes and made his way to Frickle's office.  
  
This was crunch time after all!  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Alright, alright it's between the beach house and the Beverly Hills mansion... Both are fabulous. I say ocean front, we'll get great looking-off-at-the-sea-shots when they're depressed. Yes! Send off the decorators! I want cool! I want hip! I want Real Magic! Bright colors! Slick! None of the old school castle bollocks! Slikanawi! Whattaya got? Let's go! Chop chop!  
  
The cool, the hip Wayne Frickle, checked his hair in a mirror in between making three or four decisions for the next season and sent four program peons scattering before motioning Slikanawi through the horde in front of his sizable glass desk. Frickle, the youngest executive producer at WBS1, 2 or 3 and a whole _five_ years older then his nebbish assistant executive producer, took off his brown mesh over robe (mesh was all the rage), flicked a crumb of biscotti from his forest green under robe and fixed the approaching Slikanawi with a patronizing glower.  
  
Okay, Wayne, Barry said, clearing his throat, now I've looked at a lot of marbles but I've got a few _very_ interesting ones and a spectacular idea but it's a little different then what we've been-  
  
Different? How different? Wayne snapped. Different cool? Different hip?   
  
Well, ah, the only thing that makes it quite different is that the finalists in this bag all know each other.  
  
Frickle rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Look, Slikanawi, I don't know what show you've been working for, but Real Magic is _based_ on the concept of a bunch of _strangers_ all living in the same house. That's how ya get conflict! Drama! _Realness_! Hot tub action!  
  
Um, yes, yes, Slikanawi said, his hand holding the bag of marbles shaking with anxiety, but what if I told you that there's an audition marble in here from... Harry _Potter_!  
  
Frickle blinked. Frickle uncrossed his arms and checked his hair again. In the mirror he saw not his perfect platinum blonde gelled spikes and a carefully groomed goatee but instead visions. Visions of sky high ratings.  
  
Slikanawi, if you told me that I would be exceedingly pleased, Frickle said seriously.   
  
Barry took a deep breath. Well, I've _got_ it. Right here in this bag! Harry Potter's audition marble! You remember Hermione Granger?  
  
Of _ course_, I know who Granger is, Slikanawi. She was going out with Potter a while ago? Wasn't she? Named one of Witch Weekly's Young Witches to Watch?  
  
Barry shrugged. Yeah, supposedly there was a love triangle with Potter and the Bulgarian seeker, Krum. And then there was a love triangle between Potter, Granger and Potter's best friend-  
  
Right, er, Wassle... Weedle... Weasel?  
  
Weasley, Wayne. Ron Weasley, Barry answered, now feeling confident. And who knows if all that's true but the point is, everyone _thinks_ it's true and everyone _loves_ Harry Potter and I've got _all _of them right _here_!  
  
This is very interesting, Slikanawi, Wayne admitted. This is new. This is different. This could be cool.  
  
Barry reached into his little black bag and took out a small marble of green and silver swirls. And that's not _all_ I have, Slikanawi said proudly. You want conflict, Wayne? I've _got_ conflict!  
  
Barry set the marble on the desk and tapped it with his wand. Out of it came a small three dimensional projection of a very handsome, very surly looking young man in black robes, who was sneering in a distinctly seductive way at the two producers.   
  
Wayne stared at the face. The perfect bone structure, the intense gray eyes (gray!), the fine blonde hair falling over his forehead...  
  
Who's _that_? Wayne demanded.  
  
said Barry, is one Draco Malfoy. Goes to Hogwarts with Potter and the rest of them. Listen to this.  
  
Barry tapped the marble a couple more times and the handsome devil started to speak.  
  
...But creaming Gryffindor in Quidditch last year made those small indignities worth it. My hobbies generally include making life unpleasant for Harry Potter, self-righteous prat that he is...  
  
They hate each other! Barry said happily. And watch _this_!  
  
Barry paused Draco and set the other marbles carefully on the desk, tapping a gold and blue one. Harry Potter popped up and Barry tapped it again.  
  
My hobbies... quidditch mostly. Studying... hexing that git, Malfoy. Only in retaliation, of course-  
  
Barry tapped the marble, putting it on pause and played a third. Hermione Granger appeared.  
  
Oh yeah, I'm supposed to give my most embarrassing moment. That would be when this great git, Draco Malfoy, hexed my teeth a couple of years ago. Don't get me started...  
  
Think of it! Barry said as Wayne stroked his goatee Real Magic: The Harry Potter Season! And there's more where that came from! We've got Weasley _and_ Weasley's sister! And look at the girl, Hermione Granger! She has real makeover possibilities! We've also got the marble for this Malfoy kid's ex girlfriend! Juicy stuff! And will you look _at_ that Draco Malfoy! You want heart throbs? Harry Potter and a beautiful bad boy! It's marvelous!  
  
Wayne listened to Barry's babbling, his eyes lighting up with the visions in his mind.  
  
_And the World Wizard Award award for Excellence in Reality Programming goes to...  
  
_Do it!  
  
  
**********************************************************  
A/N: Who loves reviews? I do! I do!  



	4. Congratulations from WBS

  
  
**Real Magic  
  
A/N:** The girl can't help it. **Thank you soooooo much for the great reviews** which inspired me for this chapter! I'm going out of town for six days but I'll be back awaiting reviews.  
  
**Real Magic  
  
Chapter 4: Congratulations from WBS  
  
**  
_Dear Real Magic Cast Member,   
  
Congratulations! You have been selected to join the third season cast of the WBS1 hit show, Real Magic! You will be spending the next three months in sunny Southern California with seven other lucky winners!  
  
The show starts when you meet your house mates at London's Heathrow Airport where you will fly to exciting Los Angeles by muggle transportation! Your first class air ticket is enclosed, please meet at Gate 4A at exactly 10AM June 15, wearing muggle clothes only and bringing along any necessary personals. Keep in mind that no magic is allowed in your Real Magic mansion! Spending money will be provided and your first Real Magic activity will be an all paid for shopping spree in fashionable L.A.! You are in for a great adventure and super stardom! Congratulations again from WBS!  
  
Sincerely,  
Wayne Frickle  
Executive Producer, Real Magic  
_*Also keep in mind that your audition marble and acceptance now binds you to a summer long contract according to the legal rights of Real Magic and WBS. WBS1 now contains the nonexclusive rights to your voice, image and name, any of which may be utilized for promotional purposes or sold to the highest bidder. Have fun!  
**  
**********************************************************************************  
  
** Ron Weasley, legs complexly tangled in a web of Chudley Canon sheeting and in the midst of a particularly uncouth dream involving both Lavender _and_ Parvati, inhaled a good amount of drool before a blood curdling shriek sounded from downstairs, ripping him from the land of what Ron had termed Parvati's 14th Curve and sending him scrambling to his feet, only to fall on his face before he grabbed for his wand and went stumbling out of his bedroom and down the stairs of the Burrow in preparation for a couple snaggle toothed death eaters, or perhaps Voldemort risen from the grave or at the very least a cranky baskilisk. Ron pounded down the hallway and skidded into the kitchen, eyes wide and wand drawn and ready for the next battle.  
  
WHO DIED?!   
  
Not only the fleet of foot Ron, but two other equally alarmed Weasleys of the male persuasion, found themselves rushing down to the kitchen to come to the aide of the youngest, their baby darling sweetheart little sister who, instead of dyeing slowly between the unhinged jaw of a resurrected Nagini, was bouncing on her pink toe socked feet at great heights, grasping a long piece of parchment, a look of such euphoric glee on her face that Ron had not seen since Harry sleep walked into the common room three months ago wearing only Gryffindor colored boxer briefs.  
  
WE GOT IN! WE GOT IN! WEGOTINWEGOTINWEGOTIN!!   
  
Fred and George Weasley put their wands away and eyed their sister with typically Fred and George Brand Good Natured Amusement. They turned to Ron and grinned in typical Fred and George Fashion.  
  
said Fred, looking all too sexy for his shirt*, she's _your_ sister now.  
  
George agreed, we leave all over protective tendencies to you. We've got things to do, people to flummox.  
  
Fred and George went back upstairs to bed and Ron was left alone with his sister, the Amazing Bouncing Hyperactive.  
  
  
  
WE GOT IN!  
  
  
  
I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! I'M SO EXCITED!  
  
You don't say.  
  
Ginny came to a soft landing and attempted to bring her pulse back down to acceptable levels.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
We could go on like this all morning.  
  
Real Magic, Ron! You and I, we _both_ got in! We're going to Los Angeles! To California!  
  
You generally have to _go_ to California to get to Los Angeles, Ron pointed out, though he too was grinning as the excitement started to hit him.  
  
His sister gripped him by the shoulders, Ron, do you have any idea what this means?!  
  
Yes, it means no more espresso double shots for Gin-Gin.  
  
his sister said, a look of quiet and dangerous intensity in her eyes, this means that I, Virginia Weasley, get to wear... A BIKINI!  
  
Ron began to convulse with a sense of horror he hadn't felt since a particularly ugly night of junior auroring. Oh... for... joy, he said thickly.  
  
His sister realized her faux pas and grasped for something Ron could hold onto.  
  
But Ron, you know what eeeelse, she said in a sing song voice.  
  
Ron asked, You're getting something pierced?!  
  
It's California, Ronnie. It's _girls_, Ginny said slyly. Girls, girls, girls for ickle Ronniekins.  
  
Ickle Ronniekins blinked. Ickle Ronniekins imagined 15th, 16th and sizable 14th curves.  
  
WE GOT IN!  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Hermione Granger was awake, was feeling that abrupt summertime jolt of readjusting to muggle life and trying to remember what setting of the toaster oven would _not_ burn a partly stale cinnamon English muffin. Mione, as she was so belovedly coined, had all but forgotten about her fumbling audition marble. She'd done her best to that little test, wearing regular school robes, hair bushy as ever, face not only quite makeupless but unwashed and verbal presentation something other then sparkling. Hermione had done it all not so much to avoid becoming a cast member of Real Magic as to prove a point to Ginny. Having not for a moment, even for less then a millisecond considered the possibility of actually being chosen for the cast, Hermione had idolly imagined herself on a beach, lying back in the sun with a massive copy of _An Anthology of 18th Century Arithmatic Conceptualization _ and _The Portable Waffling_, basking in the soft pacific scented breeze, toes in the sand, shades cooly pushed back over her hair, which soaking wet, would not seem bushy at all.  
  
Hermione was ejecting another muffin now scalded the color of Severus Snape's dark soul, and cursing softly to herself while wondering what sort of breakfasts beach front restaurants served and what were the _real_ ingredients of a California omelet when the owl came swooping in through the kitchen window, an unfamiliar bird with a somewhat condescending air that only came from being employed by a major network, magical or not. The owl dropped a small parcel atop the charred toaster biscuit after eyeing it with disgust and just as quickly left. Hermione watched the owl fly away and looked at the parcel, seeing the logo of WBS and wondering why a rejection letter required such heavy packaging. Hermione tore open the mailer and read the scroll contained within, staring at it and the included plane ticket (first class, of course), uncomprehendingly.  
  
Hermione Granger breathed,   
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Pansy Parkinson was a natural snorer and only with the benefit of _Miss_ _Whisper's Silent Slumber Drought_ did she manage to avoid waking the house elves on the other side of the wall in the servant's quarters. Pansy's sleep disorder now muted, which otherwise would have exuded blasts only matched by the angry roar of the Hogwarts Express, included the use of a sleeping mask, a purple silk and velvet number that she wore over her eyes. In one of the six bedrooms of a quite respectable and beautiful mansion that Pansy liked to _pretend_ was in some way comparable to Malfoy Manor, and under the satin sheets (that matched the sleeping mask, of course) and in the wrought iron four poster bed, lay Pansy dreaming involuntarily of six different kinds of food from which she'd attempted to abstain for the past three years, _Clearabelle's Blemish Off _applied to certain aspects of her complexion, arms spread out across the queen sized, her fingers hanging off each edge of the bed like she was a goddess awaiting holy vindication.  
  
The vindication came in the form of an owl which poked insistently on her window early in the morning, and failing to wake the buxom Slytherin, seemed to roll it's owly eyes and flew down to the house elv's window, waking Yert who accepted the package for Pansy before he realized that he now was responsible for _waking_ his mistress up which most Parkinson elves tried very purposefully to avoid.  
  
It was necessary in waking Miss Pansy to skip all attempts at knocking and invade the bedroom, calling out Miss Pansy's name at gradually strengthening volumes until the girl twitched or as a last resort to actually throw something small at one of the fingers hanging off the edge of the bed.  
  
First a whisper.  
  
Miss Pansy...   
  
A hiss.  
  
Miss Pansy.  
  
Heightened stage whisper.  
  
Miss Pansy!  
  
Yert, being an unusually ballsy sort of elf, one who _might_ have been quietly interested in S.P.E.W. theory, hated this ritual and knew what would bring his mistress back from the world beyond of sugar frosting and ubiquitous calories.  
  
MISS PANSY!  
  
Miss Pansy burst into wakefulness with such violence that for a moment she appeared to levitate underneath her sheets, every nerve in her body tensed.  
  
WHAT IN THE BLAZES! Miss Pansy shrieked, yanking off her sleeping mask and glaring at the underling before her.  
  
It was Yert. Any other house elf would have received a punishment or at the very least an inducement toward self-loathing, but Yert had been around since Pansy could remember and she had a certain amount of affection for the little gremlin. And besides that, Yert could be entertaining.  
  
Yert, what the bloody hell-  
  
Package for you, miss, Yert said simply.  
  
It couldn't _wait_?  
  
Yert shrugged. Would miss like to go back to sleep? Yert could bring miss some warm milk?  
  
No, Yert.  
  
Heating pad?  
  
  
  
  
  
Yert! You've already woken me! I can't get back to sleep _now_.  
  
Most grievous apologies, miss.  
  
Miss Pansy snorted. I'll bet. Let's see the package then.  
  
Yert handed his mistress the package and the mistress, seeing the WBS logo on the front began to shriek again to Yert's bemusement, began to scramble out from underneath her covers and ripped open the parcel and reading the parchment, began to squeal in a most undignified manner that Yert happened to know the elder Madam Parkinson tried most heartedly to discourage.  
  
  
  
Would miss like a valium?  
  
I'M GOING TO L.A.! MERLIN! OHMIGOSH! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! WAAAAAAAAH!  
  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Harry Potter's feet were cold and if much of the female magical community had known it, they would have scuttled over magical and muggle streets and up the poplar outside his window and into his begrudgingly given bedroom to personally warm them with techniques having very little to do with conventional sorcery. Sadly, they did not know and so Potter was forced to go to the trouble of tucking his feet beneath his undersized woolen blanket and half awake to turn onto his side, his head propped on his hand and giving the darkened bedroom a sleepy, unspectacled, tousled expression of contentment that would've sent the Potter Foot Warming Society gasping for their collective breath. Potter was ruminating on the state of life since the ending (we hope) of the dark lord the year before, was reflecting on the sudden quietness of the Dursleys who themselves had come face to face with the darkest magic in the known world and lived to never speak of it through no actions of their own, who saw Harry Potter's so noble heroism up close and personal and never thanked him for it, was reveling in the very great favor they _had_ done him of leaving him completely to himself.  
  
Harry was looking forward to a happily uneventful summer of visiting the Burrow, possibly Mione's house and most probably a few trips to Sirius' flat on Diagon Alley where Sirius, long since cleared of all false accusations, enjoyed a relatively normal life of auroring alongside Lupin,both of them named in Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelors Issue and both of them dating a certain number of hot under the collar, doe eyed auror groupies. Harry kicked off the blanket and stretched, exposing a goodly amount of bare chest above his infamously crimson boxer briefs and was reaching for his glasses when the owl tapped on his window. Harry rolled over and opened the window, frowning when he didn't recognize the owl and accepted the package. And the owl exchanged a coo of approval with Hedwig who sat calmly perching on Harry's desk chair before it flew into the sunrise.  
  
Harry eyed the WBS logo with suspicion and wondered which promotional offer this pertained to. He was not expecting the Real Magic rejection letter, but rather got letters from WBS, WWN, Witch Weekly, The Daily Prophet, Warlock's Quarterly, various witch and wizard authors hoping for a favorable blurb on a new book as well as a myriad of brand names several times a week, most of which he immediately threw away unless they contained a free sample or gift basket.   
  
Harry read the letter and looked at the plane ticket and fell back on his bed and groaned most heartedly and cursed Ron Weasley to the marrow of the redhead's bones.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
Draco Malfoy, at his window, his arms like that of a greek vision and languidly above his head, his self most decidedly naked... apart from a pair of black silk boxers. Draco put his arms down, whilst staring out of a ridiculously oversized window in the ridiculously oversized Nearly-the-Master Suite of Malfoy Manor, and scratched an itch on his shoulder, eyeing the dismal grounds, the typically British moores in the tradition of Bronte novels outside his room, with a differently sleepy, tousled and hopelessly seductive expression of contentment and expectation that would have frozen the Potter Foot Warming Society where they stood, causing them whip their heads back and forth between the two, their poor, overwhelmed hearts nearly imploding under the weight of such a decision.  
  
Another spectacularly dull day in life of Draco Malfoy, he muttered to himself.  
  
He stretched again and closed his eyes, opening them to see on the other side of the window a pair of peepers beholding an air of arrogance much like his own except that they belonged to an owl.  
  
Draco sighed, opening the window. Another one of my admirers, I suppose?  
  
The cooed and Draco noted just a hint of what might've been sarcasm before it dropped the parcel in Draco's hands and flew off. Draco opened the package and read the letter and his mouth twisted into a leering half smile of satisfaction, his eyebrow raised, his knowing look of smugness belying the excitement inside him.  
  
he said lazily, raising his head and dashing through the bonds of reality to gaze upon you, the reader, and gesturing toward himself, you don't think they'd turn all _this_ down, do you?  
  
***************************************************************  
**A/N yaaaaaahoo! Reviews loved! *Right Said Fred. If you don't get that reference, look it up in google.com and think back, waaaaay back. Toss me the reviewage!**  
  
  
  



End file.
